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How do I become the very ground?

I have this need for fields. For the way they sink me, pull me footwards – root yourself, they offer. This swallowing of my boots, lodged in clunching cheeks - they chew a welcome around my feet. Spring is coming. I open my dirty coat like a tree-bud, unzipping canvas scales, showing humps of breast to the front of the sun. I am a furly Comfrey bloom. I wish to wear a crown of bumble bees upon my head, to offer their mouths my honey hair. Be rested on our sponge of moss. The horses, bedded down in splints of light have learned this – groan their utter pleasure in this heated fur, ask no more of the afternoon.

Jane Burn

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Deseeded Volume 3  

An anthology featuring poems by Catherine Ayres, Jane Burn, Ann Cuthbert, Stephanie Green, Kirsten Luckins, Lisa Matthews, Valerie Morton, E...

Deseeded Volume 3  

An anthology featuring poems by Catherine Ayres, Jane Burn, Ann Cuthbert, Stephanie Green, Kirsten Luckins, Lisa Matthews, Valerie Morton, E...

Profile for deseeded
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